


Revelation of the Goddess

by sisteras



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25661854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisteras/pseuds/sisteras
Summary: Not all royalty are destined to rule in times of peace. For those guided by Minerva in times of war, only the strongest in her image will rise to serve as the beacon of light and the strength for the people. A different retelling of our favorite characters in an alternate universe. (Tifa x Cloud)
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Kudos: 8
Collections: Cloud and Tifa





	Revelation of the Goddess

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Square Enix. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is made out of this creative work.

“Preposterous!”

The word thundered and reverberated within the damp, cold concrete walls of the meeting hall where the council of elders – patriarchal heads of the five noble families of Nibelheim – currently sat in silence. Tension quickly settled among them, waiting for one another to respond to the outburst, particularly since Lord Lockhart was well-known for his inconvincible nature once he had set his mind to it. Even more so when it came to matters that came to his family, but jurisprudence dictated that his personal affairs as the head of the kingdom were also a public matter and were therefore not exempt from ancestral traditions of the First Men of Mount Nibel. Hence, bringing them all to this heated debate.

“Your Grace,” the eldest council member and trusted advisor, Lord Aldous, calmly began. “It has always been the custom of our people to invite the sorceresses to the ceremonial welcoming of the first-born of the ruler of Nibelheim.” He paused to give time for his words to sink it. He continued, once sure that it would not generate another burst of emotion, “It has always been done before for generations and it is their right to dutifully bless the child with the necessary gifts for she will be instrumental to bringing forth the next ruler of Nibelheim.”

The explanation drew a huff of exasperation from Lord Lockhart, who wearily eyed the council of men silently nodding and murmuring their agreement to Lord Aldous. As much as it was accepted that these noblemen were the living store houses of the culture and laws of this kingdom, the monopoly of judgment and wisdom had yet to ebb and flow the changing conditions of life for the people. Duke Lockhart appealed to the council of men before him.

“Change is the only constant with humanity,” he asserted. “Historically, we have been men of common laws but we know these have changed drastically from the old times with our interpretations and applications. Antiquated customs do not appear to be relevant in these times, particularly when history has shown us that the relationships between humans and sorceresses have long been strained. Inviting them with us now poses more risks, for the power of magic can only be as pure and good as the heart that wields it. That is a risk that I am not willing to take for my daughter and for our people.”

“But Your Grace forgets,” put in Lord James, the Keeper of Texts, “that history also tells us of significant sorceresses who helped the people to bring everlasting peace. Additionally, they were and still are human, only gifted with the powers descended from Hyne.”

The resolve of their fellow members on the council only grew more, with titters of support filling the air.

General Lord Oleander spoke next. “While it is true that powers have corrupted even the minds of the greatest men, there is no doubt that the power they yield – however corruptible – is advantageous and strategic at this time. Now that there is talk of trouble brewing between Midgar and Wutai, we must exercise caution as we do not have enough men if war will break out. The mountains can only provide some protection, but we need the necessary _power_ to protect ourselves, whether it be from hostile Shinra or Wutai forces. A powerful ally is what we need over personal interests.” He paused, addressing all. “Over _our_ interests.”

A pregnant silence, followed with resigned defeat.

“As preposterous as it may sound. Very well. For Nibelheim.”

“For Nibelheim!” echoed in the chamber.

* * *

Theophania Lockhart, the first-born daughter of Duke Briant Lockhart and Duchess Beatrix Lockhart, was borne during a solar eclipse that local scholars marked important for “the Sun was put to shame, and went down in the daytime, with Minerva in its presence”. For why the birth of the child of their highest ruler fell upon such a day caused much debate among the noblemen and common-folk alike; folklore depicted the ancient Goddess of the Planet as a bringer of dual truths innate of humans: war and wisdom. For whatever premonitions the stars had foretold of the fate of kingdom, it had not dampened the merriment of the people of Nibelheim with her arrival.

In a rich and splendid room, tucked away in the recesses of the palace, the cause of excitement lay in a silver cradle. With ivory skin touched with hues of pink and wisps of dark brown hair framing dainty, carmine eyes reminiscent of the intense, red wine from grapes harvested in autumn, Theophania – or fondly called as “Tifa” by her mother and father – was a sight to behold. She never cried or screamed, content on lying on her back and smiling at the sunbeams dancing on the ceiling and the walls adorned with the royal emblem of three stars and a crescent moon. Her main nurse, Shera, constantly doted over ensuring she was comfortable, well-fed, and happy with the help of two under-nurses and two ladies-in-waiting.

When she turned sixed weeks old, preparations were in place for a grandiose ceremonial welcoming of the daughter of Nibelheim. The whole palace bustled with excitement as kitchen maids busied themselves with preparing the grand feast, housemaids swept and cleaned the rooms, messengers ran to and fro with invitations and messages in an out of Nibelheim, and ladies-in-waiting gathered and arranged hundreds of blooms to fill the palace with the delicious aroma of lilies and lilacs. Elsewhere, the residents of Nibelheim took to decorating their streets and houses with banners and wreaths and to gossiping about the celebration and the arrival of the sorceresses and what it may entail.

* * *

A sunny day blessed the day of the ceremony. Church bells rang at the arrival of guests as townsfolk gathered on the streets and around the palace to partake of the celebration. In her cradle in the great throne room, the infant paid no attention to the guests and the merriment. She focused instead at the fringe of little golden stars dangling from the canopy above her head, quietly tinkling in the wind.

“The daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Nibelheim, Lady Theophania Lockhart!” cried the heralds. Cheers followed and a thousand white doves were released to fly out into the sky as a symbol of peace and unity. Inside, guests in the palace proceeded to present their christening gifts to Baby Theophania and while the presents mounted up, so did Duke Lockhart’s anxiety over the impending arrival of their most revered but feared guests.

“Fret not,” his wife gently took his hand to reassure him. “This is not the time to worry. This is your daughter’s celebration – we have the blessings of the stars and Minerva.”

To this, the duke sighed and released his thoughts, “Do not speak too soon. We do not know what will happen, even if luck or chance is on our side. As we know, the last time a sorceress set foot in this kingdom was during the Sorceress War.”

As if hearing his grievance, the doors opened widely and welcomed three mages robed in distinct dresses. The first sorceress, a refined and sophisticated beauty with long dark hair and green eyes, wore a fitting black dress adorned with a collar of black feathers with her long hair held up with an intricate headpiece with three horns and a concha-like material. The second sorceress, equally beautiful to the first but much younger, was garbed in a skin-fitting ice-blue gown with her arms embellished with sky-blue armlets covering the pale skin of her forearms. The lightness of her clothing stood in contrast to her dark hair and eyes, highlighting her youthful aura. The last sorceress towered over the two and possessed a mysterious type of beauty, with piercing yellow eyes framed with horn-like hair and tattoos and a figure-hugging crimson gown extending behind her. All three formidable figures, permeating the air with the power of their magic, held everyone captive. The heralds formally announced the most important and last of the well-wishers, “All welcome the grand sorceresses of Mount Nibel: Sorceress Edea, Sorceress Rinoa, and Sorceress Ultimecia!”

A hush spread across the room as the three made their way to the cradle. Both the duke and duchess stood to give their respects, to which they merely acknowledged with a nod of the head before peering above the cradle to Tifa, who merely cooed at the sight of them.

The first to reach out had the magic of the elements and the power to see the past. Sorceress Edea extended a long finger and touched Tifa’s cheek, drawing wisps of blue magic upon contact. Concentrating intensely on the memories brought forth, she spoke softly, “A legacy lives on, for the souls of men and women who have died for the Planet coalesce in her veins. This child has inherited the role as one of the protectors of Gaia…a much noble cause.” She lifted her eyes and contemplated the Duke and Duchess and the noblemen and women of Nibelheim. A small smile graced her features before granting her blessing, “For this, I give the gifts of knowledge and wisdom to lead and protect her people. To allow her to understand, act, and live upon the will of Gaia, for when the time comes ‘the war of beasts brings about the world’s end’ and the Goddess Minerva will descend from the sky and summon those who heed to the call.”

The next to contemplate Tifa was the young sorceress in blue, who reached out to stroke the infant’s stomach. Sorceress Rinoa, with her life-giving magic and the power to see the present, smiled radiantly at the tiny baby who reached out and gripped her extended finger. White magic thrummed and swirled around their connected appendages while she too quietly recited from an ancient epic, “‘Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess, we seek it thus, and take to the sky’.” Upon gazing in the depths of Tifa’s carmine eyes, she announced her blessings, “I give you the gifts of independence and benevolence, to be beacon of light for others. ‘There is only joy, for you are beloved by the Goddess’.” She gently withdrew her finger and along with it the white tendrils of magic tickling Tifa’s face.

The last sorceress bearing the magic of time and the ability to see the future, bent and hovered over the cradle. Unlike the first two, she did not reach out to touch the baby. She recounted with amusement, “Knowledge, wisdom, independence, and benevolence. Most befitting for a child of high status. Pray what, Your Grace, should I grant your daughter?”

Taken aback by the sudden address, Duke Lockhart stuttered and shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the sorceress’ penetrating stare. What could he ask of her? Nurturance, sensitivity, sweetness, gentleness, passivity, modesty, humility, empathy, affection, devotion…all of these traits were the most desirable and expected of Nibel women, even more so for royalty. Could he perhaps suggest these? Yet he could not decide due to fear – fear of the powerful woman before him and fear of retribution of the people and his council should his suggestion bring failure - and instead spoke the words of his council, “My Lady, tradition dictates that my daughter will be instrumental to bringing forth the next ruler of Nibelheim. With this, we trust that your blessing will help this come into fruition, no matter what it may be.”

“No matter what it may be,” Ultimecia repeated. She returned her gaze to Tifa, laid her palm over her head, and closed her eyes. _Visions of smoke and fire, slaughter and death, screams of agony and anguish. A tall, silver-haired man wielding a sword dripping with blood. Midgar, its glory reduced to rubble and chaos. A blonde man with blue eyes and another with dark hair and eyes similar in blue, both garbed in Midgar soldier uniform. A beautiful girl with green eyes and in pink dress, knelt in prayer. Meteor._ The last image caused the sorceress to abruptly open her eyes. “But what will be, will be.” As if reading his mind, she listed the characteristics he thought of moments ago and said pitifully, “Merely expectations of those who will not feel and experience pain and grief in the cruel, volatile, and ambiguous world of men. For this, you, young Lockhart, a heart of fortitude to serve as the pillar of strength for you and your people in the new world order.” Yellow magic pulsed from her palm and crowned the infant before engulfing her tiny body and settling over her heart. “So help us, Gaia.”

A stunned silence in the throne room followed, broken by the Duke.

“My Lady,” Duke Lockhart’s wildness in his eyes betrayed his calm words, logic and opportunity taking precedence over panic. “The people of Nibelheim would be forever indebted for the gifts you have bestowed upon my daughter. In this…new world order that you speak of, we would like to also ask of your kind assistance to the people of Nibel.”

The three sorceresses drew up to their full height and Ultimecia drawled, “We will not be _instruments_ for the selfish desires of humans, we can only be instruments to bring peace and order to an existence that would otherwise survive without humanity. The lessons in the Sorceress War serve as a painful reminder that we are merely harbingers, to use our magic for the greater good of Gaia.”

With that, they disappeared and the tendrils of smoke rose as the only indications of their presence. Chaos ensued as Lady Beatrix burst into tears and the grand throne room erupted in panic.

“War! You Grace, they speak of war!”

“What will become of us in this new world order?”

“What kind of gifts are these for the daughter of the duke?”

“A disgrace! Had it been a son…”

The onslaught of words and emotions flew in all directions until Tifa – whether due to the gravity of the gifts she had received or of the future they foretold – opened her small mouth as wide as possible and screamed without abandon.

Preposterous was very much a cruel understatement.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: I’ve always loved Tifa as a character in the Final Fantasy universe and when I ran out of fanfiction to read I figured it was time to do my own. Please excuse my rustiness. The last time I wrote fiction was back in college a decade ago but I never did lose my imagination and loved the creative works of talented writers here.  
> I’ve been doing technical writing for others for the longest time. I guess it’s time to write for myself and for all the fellow dreamers out there.  
> I will be back.


End file.
